


Scotty's Mom (Has Got It Going On)

by BeniMaiko



Series: Gifts to Other Authors [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Crack, Humor, Scott acts dog like, melissa is a good mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeniMaiko/pseuds/BeniMaiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melissa is pretty good a dealing with her son being a werewolf.<br/>3 +1, because I couldn't come up with any more.<br/>3 times Melissa is perfectly accepting of Scott's wolfy behavior, and one time she is still pretty accepting, because she is an awesome mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scotty's Mom (Has Got It Going On)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devilscut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilscut/gifts).



> devilscut suggested this to me based on a conversation we had in comments for http://archiveofourown.org/works/1447687 . Thanks D.

 1.

Melissa knew for a fact that Scott had worn more than two pairs of socks this week, but that was all that showed up in the laundry hamper. Well, two and a half pairs, for a grand total of five socks.

The hunt for dirty laundry is how she found herself pulling a rancid pile of lacrosse gear out of the bottom of Scott’s closet. Normally, she would avoid poking into the dark corners of her son’s bedroom. She had learned her lesson with the great porn stash discovery during a spring-cleaning mattress flip when Scott was fourteen.

Three more pairs of socks and a crunchy tee-shirt later, Melissa was ready to call the laundry hunt a success when she knocked over one of Scott’s old helmets and something fell out. It was about the size of her fist, white, a ragged around the edges. She poked at it hesitantly with one finger before realizing that it was a chewed up, rawhide bone.

The only piece remaining was one knotted end. It had been deeply scored and partially untied. Melissa cautiously tipped the helmet and three more chew toys rolled out, all in different stages of consumption.

She knew Scott would be able to smell her on the helmet and chewies, but she put them back just like she found them. There had to be a reason the young Alpha had them hidden in the back of his closet, surrounded by stinky sports equipment.

If she had to guess, Melissa would assume that it was to hide them from the other wolves or Stiles. Probably Stiles. That boy was like another son to her, but he could be a little shit, sometimes. He would probably pick on Scott unmercifully if he found out about his habit.

Melissa carried the laundry downstairs and added soup bones to the grocery list. The German Shepard she had growing up always preferred them to rawhide.

 2.

Melissa was walking back from the mailbox when Mrs. Walker’s cat tore past her in a blur of orange fur. She looked toward the side of the house where the cat had run from and saw Scott peeking over the fence.

As soon as he saw her, the boy ducked his head and disappeared from view. Melissa sighed and went back into the house, hoping to intercept her son in the kitchen. She directed Scott to sit at the table for one of their frequent heart-to-hearts.

“Scott, what is going on with you and the cat?” She didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but this wasn’t the first time she had seen her son immediately after seeing the cat dart away from their yard.

Scott sat stiff backed I his usual chair at the table. “It’s not me, mom. I’m not doing anything to the cat!”

Melissa reached out and gently placed her hand on her son’s. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything, sweetie. I just want to know what’s happening.”

The boy looked uncomfortable. “It keeps looking at me. It watches me when I take the garbage out. It watches me as I leave for school. I’ve even seen it in the tree outside my window. Staring. Always staring.”

Her son blushed to the tips of his ears. “You probably won’t believe me, but I think he wants me to chase him. I mean, he just waits until I get really close and then takes off running. If I stop chasing, he comes back and stares some more. It’s weird.”

Melissa wasn’t sure what to say about that. “OK. I believe you. I’ll ask Mrs. Walker if she’s noticed anything odd about her cat.”

The following afternoon, Melissa had the opportunity to speak with her neighbor. After a brief conversation about the weather, she asked the important question. “So, how’s your old tom cat? I’ve been seeing him outside a lot more, recently.”

Mrs. Walker beamed. “Oh yes. It’s wonderful. After our old dog, Rufus, passed away last year, Tom really lost the spring in his step. He just moped around the house without his old playmate.”

The older woman chuckled. “Tom used to goad that poor hound into chasing him all over the neighborhood. It was his favorite game. I don’t know what’s gotten into him recently, but he really seems like his old self again.”

Melissa blinked slowly. “Well. Uh, I’m glad he’s feeling better. I guess I’d better head back in.” She waved at the older woman and made her way to her kitchen where she collapsed in her chair, laughing.

She was almost finished cooking dinner when Scott got in from lacrosse practice. “How was school?” She asked.

Scott mumbled a quick, “fine.” Melissa could see that he was distracted by something outside the window. As she rounded the table, the orange cat came into view.

Melissa patted Scott on the shoulder. “You were right, you know. Mrs. Walker said that cat used to get their dog to chase him all the time. I can ask her to try and keep him off the property if he’s bothering you.”

Scott sat up straight and gaped at his mom. “You mean he really does want me to chase him? It’s not afraid of me?”

Melissa smiled. “No, sweetheart. He wants to play with you.”

Scot wiggled in his chair. If he had a tail it would be wagging. “Can I… just for a minute?”

Melissa smiled even wider. “Go ahead. Be back soon or your dinner will get cold.”

Scott leapt out of his chair and out the kitchen door. Within seconds an orange streak sped across the backyard with a shaggy haired boy hot on his tail.

 

 3.

Sunday night was leftover night. Anything left in the fridge from the previous week was fair game for dinner, and then whatever wasn’t eaten was tossed in the trash.

This weekend, Melissa had to cover for a co-worker and fridge cleanup had been put off until Monday. Some of the food had clearly spoiled, but some of it looked fine. Still, better safe than sorry.

The nurse had seen more than her fair share of food poisoning cases at the E.R. She was unwilling to risk her health on potentially dangerous food. Melissa dropped half a dozen zip style, storage baggies in the garbage can for Scott to take out to the large bin in the driveway.

Usually, her son was back from running the garbage out in thirty seconds or less. This time, though, he had been outside for several minutes. Melissa had to wonder what was taking him so long.

She flipped the switch to the large floodlight and popped her head out the door.

Next to the back stoop, Scott looked startled as the very bright light turned on. In his hand, he held a zip baggie that once contained leftover meatloaf. The meatloaf was in Scott’s mouth until he swallowed it with an audible gulp.

“It’s still good, mom. I swear. It still smells fine.” Scott declared earnestly.

Melissa took a deep breath. “OK. Try not to let the neighbors see.” She turned and went back into the house, cutting off the floodlight as she went.

She was going in to drink a glass of wine and have a nice long soak in the tub.

 

+1.

Melissa had adapted well to having a werewolf for a son. She really had.

She hadn’t batted an eye when Scott started sticking his head out of the car window whenever she drove him anywhere. She didn’t complain when he stole all of the blankets to make a nest in the middle of his bed. She hadn’t even laughed when she saw him turning around and around on it before finally settling down for sleep.

Melissa had switched to fragrance free laundry detergent. She no longer wore her favorite perfumes because it irritated Scott’s sensitive nose.

She had actually become used to the way he rubbed his head on her when they hugged. She loved how he had returned to snuggling up on the couch for movie nights like he had as a child.

Hell, she was even accepting of the dead spots in the lawn along the fence line caused by his “marking” of his territory.

But this.

This was too much.

Melissa’s purse dropped to the ground as she covered her eyes with both hands. “Oh God, Scotty. What the hell are you doing? Why? Why would you do that I the middle of the living room?”

She could hear her son scrambling around the room. “Don’t look, mom! Don’t look.”

Melissa kept her eyes tightly closed. “It’s a little late for that, Scott. I will never get that image out of my head. God.”

Only moments before, she had walked through the front door after a long night at the hospital. She had been anticipating a relaxing bath and several uninterrupted hours of sleep in her own bed. If she hadn’t been so tired, she might have noticed what was going on in the room before she practically tripped over her son.

Her naked son.

Her naked, wolfed out son.

Her naked wolfed out son, who had been quite intensely licking his own balls.

Her naked wolfed out son, who had been quite intensely licking his own balls in the middle of their day lit living room.

Melissa felt like she had to draw a line in the sand. Some behaviors were acceptable and some were not. She really didn’t want to be racist, specie-ist, whatever. If Scott felt the need to _groom_ himself that way, he could do it in his own room. Or the bathroom. Either of those places would be fine.

“Don’t think about running away Scott McCall. Are you dressed yet?”

She heard a whimper before Scott answered. “Yeah.”

Melissa carefully opened her eyes. Not only was Scott dressed, he was huddled on the sofa, swaddled in a throw blanket that he used to hide his face from view. “Are you mad at me?” He asked in a small voice.

This was her son. Her only child. “I’m not mad at you Scott, I just… I really wish I hadn’t seen that.” Melissa sighed. “I guess it's something I’ll need to get used to. I want you to be able to do whatever is normal and natural for werewolves.”

Scott whined from under the blanket. “Oh God, mom. It’s not… I’m so embarrassed.”

Melissa patted Scotts back. “It’s Ok, honey. I’m not ashamed of you. I could never be ashamed of you. If this is something you need to do, you go right ahead and do it, but  could you do it in your own room?”

Her son slowly pulled the blanket off his head, but he refused to meet her eyes with his own. “No mom, I won’t do it anymore. I promise.”

Melissa hadn’t wanted to make Scott uncomfortable to be himself in his own home. “No. No, you know what, Scott? You do what you need to do to be the best you that you can be. OK? I love you.”

Scott buried his head in his hands. “Thanks, mom. I love you, too.”

 

Bonus. (for Thraceadams)

Scott jumped up to the roof under Stiles’ window and climbed through. He had never been so mortified in his life. He needed to spend many, many hours forgetting what had happened through the magic of x-box.

Stiles looked up from where he was sitting in his computer chair. “Hey man. Are you alright? You look kinda pale there, dude.”

With a groan, Scott flopped back on Stiles’ bed. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, Stiles.”

The younger boy looked concerned. “Oh my God, Scott. What did you do? Did you kill somebody? Do you need my help burying the body? I’ve been carrying a shovel in the Jeep for just this occasion.”

Scott shook his head. “Do you remember how we saw that dog in the park licking his nuts, and you were joking, but you asked if I could do that?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah… “

Scott mumbled. “I tried it.”

Stiles made a low moaning noise in the back of his throat. “You… you tried it?”

The older boy curled up on the bed and hugged his knees tightly to his chest. “I did. I didn’t really think I would be able to, but I could. And before I knew it the wolf just sort of took over. I wanted to make sure everything was spotless. I couldn’t help myself.”

Stiles had his hands clamped over his mouth and was making that low moan while rocking back and forth in his chair. Scott appreciated his friend’s efforts not to laugh out loud, but the tears were a dead give away.

“Let it out, Stiles.”

“Oh my God! Holy shit Scott. You actually licked your own balls. That’s fantastic.” Stiles sobered. “But. I don’t understand. How did you fuck up? Are you addicted now, Scott? Are you hooked on licking your nuts?”

Scott groaned. “I was in the living room. My mom walked in. My mom _saw_ me.”

Stiles gasped. “Oh shit, dude.”

"Oh God, Stiles. I just wanted to see if I could, ya know? I didn't hear her get home! I'll never be able to look my mom in the eyes for as long as I live." Scott dropped his head in his hands.

 

Stiles made appropriate commiserating noises. "It'll be OK, buddy." He turned on the webcam on his laptop. "Soooooo. For science... "

 


End file.
